


Specialisation

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, M/M, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-24
Updated: 2010-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:49:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets cursed, poor Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Specialisation

Sam's feeling pretty damn miserable.

He's still buried in the motel bed, not moving and not talking to anyone. Not since the water demon they'd torn to pieces had left Sam a little parting gift.

Dean and Castiel are still out trying to fix it. Still out desperately trying to find a way to fix _him_. Or put him back to normal at least.

Which is why he knows exactly who's currently eating something with an obnoxiously loud crunching noise, right next to the bed.

"Go away," Sam huffs. Because the last thing he wants right now is to talk to Gabriel.

"I gotta tell you, Sam, this is special even by Winchester standards." Gabriel's voice is all slow mockery and amusement.

Sam decides this is indeed special circumstances and thinks nothing of sliding his foot out of the blankets, and trying for a kick.

Gabriel's short but he's an _angel_ and now Sam's foot hurts.

He officially hates his life.

Though he thinks he kind of knows what cats feel like just before they lash their tails now. Because there's a threatening twitch-twisting-shift round his waist where the - where the _things_ have coiled themselves round and round him like sleeping cobras.

"I mean it, Gabriel, I'm not in the mood for your shit." He's not sure he's in the mood for anything.

"Seriously, you expected me to stay away. You have _tentacles._ "

Sam winces at hearing it blurted out like some sort of embarrassing sexual disease.

"I do not have tentacles," he says darkly into the pillow. Which is clearly a fucking lie, because said non-existent tentacles are now uncoiling like they sense fresh blood.

The damn things seem to have a mind of their own and he can feel the disturbing too-strong stretch and pull where all eight of them are now attached at the base of his spine.

He tugs the sheets further up - and Gabriel tugs them away. Sam's not winning that tug of war, so he settles for rolling over and glaring up at him.

"You don't have anything better to do?"

"Better than _this_?" Gabriel asks, like he's mad, and he's not being subtle in the slightest about the fact that he's looking.

There's a strange sensation, a drift of skin and dry warmth that comes from nowhere. It takes Sam a long moment to realise one of his - damn it - one of his new appendages has managed to curiously wrap its way round Gabriel’s wrist.

He can feel it squeezing, as if it’s testing whether it could pull Gabriel into little angel pieces.

Gabriel grunts surprise.

"Damn, these suckers are strong." He lifts his other hand and catches the edge, which immediately tries to twine itself round his thumb.

"Stop trying to touch them," Sam complains and tries to unwrap it from around Gabriel's arm. But there's barely a flicker of reaction. Like his head doesn't have a clue which muscles it's supposed to be using to control them.

He can feel Gabriel's wrist, in excruciating clarity but he couldn't say where the sensation is supposed to be coming from. Couldn’t say how he's processing it. Because he's a mutant.

"It was touching me actually," Gabriel protests huffily. "How much control do you have?"

"None," Sam spits. "So, seriously stop...encouraging them."

One of the others has now uncoiled and is drifting out, like it knows there's something interesting going on. Sam reaches a hand out and jerks it back without thinking and it's weirdly like touching himself and yet _nothing_ like touching himself, because the rest of him is not cool and shiny and faintly damp.

"Don't tell me they're subconscious." Gabriel laughs, like that's the most entertaining thing ever. Like Sam's in so much trouble.

"They certainly don't pay attention to me -" One of them lifts as if to prove him right and trails almost curiously at the curve of Gabriel's jaw, them flicks up through his hair. "Damn it, Gabriel, I told you."

Gabriel laughs and lifts a hand, Sam succeeds, barely, in tugging the errant tentacle away. But it thrashes for a second like it doesn’t like it.

"I think they know we've had sex," Gabriel drawls lazily.

"Only a few times," Sam says unhappily. Because he doesn't really want to be reminded of that while he's a freak.

"Four," Gabriel corrects.

"I was drunk the last time."

"It still counts," Gabriel says peevishly, like Sam has just insulted him.

Then without another word he's in the sheets, tipped over on his hands and Sam's breathing right up close to him. Another inch and he'll end up - Sam skids on the sheets and manages to catch himself by winding a tentacle round Gabriel's arm and then the damn thing doesn’t want to let go.

"Gabriel," Sam protests. Because he does this every damn time. Sam still hasn't even worked out how. Maybe he's just that stupidly broken that any attention will do.

Gabriel kisses him, just one quick press of mouth that doesn't entirely remove his glare.

"You let me touch you and then you sulk for ages about how I threaten your manly exterior and about how you really hate me. Well you've been sulking for ages. I was planning to come see you again, kill a few monsters, get on your good side."

Gabriel slides his hands through the tentacles where they attach to his back, separating them gently, curiously. Sam inhales sharply because that sensation has just about killed everything in his brain.

He's going to say something, he is, but then Gabriel's kissing him again and there's a brief tangled up tentacle fight concerning which one gets to loop round Gabriel's waist and keep him there. A slither-slide that's curious and playful and Sam hates his subconscious, he hates it because this is absolutely not how he was planning to spend his afternoon as a mutant.

He thinks he should probably be embarrassed at least, or just weirded the hell out.

He has tentacles for God's sake.

He tugs away from Gabriel's mouth.

"Damn it Gabriel, do you have any idea how weird this is?"

"I like weird, I like you, it's like a two for one day," Gabriel says smoothly.

Sam wants to be angry, he wants to be horrified. But Gabriel is warm and his mouth is so easy to kiss. It shouldn't be, hateful, smartass bastard that he is. But he just kisses Sam like he means it. Like he has no agenda, like he just wants to. He does everything else like he has an agenda but not this.

And every single new limb Sam owns is awake, more than awake. They're all investigating Gabriel's shirt or jeans or boots like they're personally offended by them.

"Gabriel," Sam murmurs, but it's more frustration than angry protest now and Gabriel's mouth slides down, ends up open at his throat, all wet tongue and sharp teeth. It sends dirty little shudders all the way to his groin. If he was pretending he wasn't hard before he can't now. Can't pretend and the fact that Gabriel wants him like this. That he just doesn’t care.

Sam doesn’t know what the hell that's about. But it _does_ something to him.

One of his tentacles has found its way up inside Gabriel’s shirt and is very slowly twisting the fabric like it wants to destroy it. The rest are clearly thinking about it, quick lashes and prods that Sam's having a bitch of a time trying to control. Having twelve limbs is fucking ridiculous. But he can feel everything they feel and its a jumble of information which ends up firmly in his groin.

God.

"Clothes," Sam says fiercely

Gabriel makes a noise against his mouth that could just as easily be a question.

Sam tips his head away.

"Clothes, Gabriel, or I think I'm going to -"

Stitching tears loudly and Sam shivers out a breath. Because he's not sure exactly why but the thought that he might just be capable of tearing through everything Gabriel's currently wearing - he thinks he might actually be able to do that. He thinks he wants to do that. He thinks he'd like it.

Gabriel's clothes are gone, they're just gone and he's warm under Sam’s hands, every single part of him, tentacles sliding greedy and proprietary across his skin. They're finding where it curves and where it's hard. It's like half a dozen layers of sensation that leave Sam feeling like he's on drugs, throbbing gently with the sheer messed up want of it all from all those angles.

It's kind of overwhelming and a little messed up and Gabriel's laughing into his mouth like he likes it.

"I wouldn't have mind if you wanted to tear them a little Sam," he says breathlessly.

"Gabriel." Sam shoves a hand in his hair, kisses him. While he twines and tangles and pulls with new muscles and new wants wherever he finds something to curve round.

Sam likes the flicker of sensation he gets when they squeeze, it's like a stretch, but better, more like sex.

"Is it good?" Gabriel murmurs against his mouth.

Sam can't do anything but swallow and nod and kiss him again, quick, almost vicious.

"What do you want? Tell me -"

The words cut off on a groan of surprise and the sensation Sam's processing abruptly changes from skin to _heat_ and the curious and shivery sensation of tightness and - oh

Sam has Gabriel's hands flat on his chest, hips canting sharply.

"Fuck," Gabriel says softly.

"Is it -" Sam inhales and tries to make his voice work. "Is it inside you?"

Gabriel groans out something close to a yes.

Sam doesn’t even know how to process that, doesn't know and his hands reach for Gabriel's waist the same time he's wrapping damp black muscle around the curves of his arms and thighs. It's too much to process all at once, too much to focus on. He can barely breathe through all of that because it all wants, fucking _wants_.

There's a tentacle curling up the curve of Gabriel's neck, sliding past his ear to hook round the back and Gabriel groans and moves and -

"Gabriel, I think I need to fuck you," Sam says hoarsely

There's a breathless laugh

"You already are fucking me."

He's too desperate to argue. His dick is just a fierce hard ache that keeps nudging against Gabriel's own erection.

Sam fists a hand in his hair, drags him low, bends him low enough to shove at his mouth.

Gabriel groans ragged protest.

"Besides, I thought you didn't want to fuck me, I thought I was a bad influence?"

Sam tightens his hold and there's a quick wet noise that makes Gabriel groan sharply. Sam's now getting double sensations and Gabriel bites his lip and leans forward again, shudders out a breath he doesn't need.

"Now, Gabriel."

"Tell _them_ that," Gabriel says with a shaky little laugh and then catches a breath like he doesn’t mind in the slightest. "Oh, fuck, this is kinky even for me."

Sam pulls him forwards pulls at his thighs with more than hands, until they open round him and he barely has to touch to know that Gabriel is already worked open, already slippery. He's pulling free with a gasp and it's just him pushing back inside. One hard press of heat that Gabriel encourages with slow strung-out filthy words.

He's burning hot inside and Sam wraps a tentacle round his waist, like he can drag him down tighter, like he can push himself in deeper and Gabriel grunts like he wants it too.

"Damn it, Sam."

There's a flicker of movement and Sam has Gabriel's throat under his - not hand, God, slide of muscle where the skin is thin and delicate, wrapping round and round and Gabriel makes a soft choked off noise, mouth snapping shut.

Fuck.

 _Fuck_

Oh God that should in no way be hot, but the realisation that he has effectively just choked Gabriel silent is impossible not to react to. Not to push up just a little harder.

Because it's not like Gabriel needs to breathe, not like he needs to - _Jesus_ \- talk.

The angel stretches under the pressure, hand sliding down to grasp his own cock.

There's a flash of twisting black curling round his arm.

It jerks Gabriel's hand away, tangles round his wrist and then tugs it behind his back, where it's joined by the other. Sam can feel them twisting round and round Gabriel's hands.

It's greedy and vicious and Sam's never had it like this before, never wanted it like this and it's so hot he thinks he might choke on it.

"No fucking hands," he says harshly, voice a shaky mess because he's still thrusting up while he says it, still pushing. "You come on my cock or not at all."

Gabriel whines out a noise that Sam's pretty sure he's never heard from him, shoulders twitching and straining and keeping his wrists bound together isn't easy. It takes two tentacles wound tighter and tighter, threatening to uncoil under the pressure on every pull. The sensation of Gabriel's skin pretty much all he's touching now. So much of it from every angle while he's still pushing up and in. Like he wants to wreck both of them.

He's going to come so damn hard.

The minute he thinks it Gabriel's eyes just fucking roll up in his head and Sam squeezes everything, some sort of greedy spasm that leaves Gabriel gasping with no air. Sam's stomach is wet, Gabriel's cock leaving it a slick warm mess without ever being touched and the angel is suddenly brutally, impossibly tight. It's good and it hurts and Sam's coming in a long shaking wave.

He thinks he blacks out.

He comes to on his back breathing like a racehorse, arms flung out. He's whimpering like he's fallen there and can't get up.

Every single one of his tentacles is sprawled out limply, trailing across the bed and the motel floor.

Gabriel's fallen over his chest shivering every so often and making a protesting noise like Sam may have just killed him.

"Can I keep you?" He mumbles into Sam's collarbone.

Sam moans complaint. But doesn’t have the energy to protest any harder.


End file.
